Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?
by Summer Wonderland
Summary: Harkness/FLW. Hiatus; needs to be re-written.
1. Chapter 1

POV: FLW

* * *

Another criminal.

That's all I was, for some reason. Harkness never gave me a chance to prove that I wasn't hiding some deep dark secret, that I wasn't just pretending to be a justified hero. As soon as he saw me for the first time that morning in August, exhausted from the heat and bleeding in seventeen different places, he simply wrote me off as a fake, and kept moving.

After a couple weeks of staying in Rivet City, I finally got the nerve to walk up to him and ask him why he felt that way. I remember it perfectly, how insulting it was.

_His features are drawn into an expression of disgust, as he looks me over like a dying centaur._

_"It's because I've seen people like you before. People think you're a real hero because you save a life, and naturally, you start to like it. Then you start slipping up, because morals don't really mean anything to you anymore. You figure, 'I've already got the reputation. Whose to say I'm wrong if I kill a man who won't spit out the answers?' And soon enough, you become the saint with a million secrets."_

_He doesn't need to say more, and he knows it. Then he walks away, courteous enough to show off his righteous grin and cocky stride, and I never. Ever. Speak to him again._

When I was new to the city, it was always difficult to find my way around because the security chief had me labeled me as a lie, and for some reason, his thoughts are everyone else's thoughts. I was lucky to know Christie and her daughter, C.J., because otherwise, I would've strangled Harkness and everyone else on this entire ship - over the location of the bathroom - by now.

After my father died, and things picked up speed with Project Purity and the Enclave, people started to see me differently. They started to open up to me, wish me luck on my adventures, and pray for my safety. Soon, there was no one who believed in the label Harkness gave me. Except Harkness.

That served as a turning point in my life that I was truly grateful for.

_You don't need anyone else's acceptance, Michella. Just know that you have mine, and your mother's, and everything will be just fine._

I could finally hear dad's encouragement ringing in my ears again.

My dad's dream had come true, and in addition to letting out all of the depression I had pinned up inside, I got a taste of a normal life in Rivet City. The place was a bit of a dump. It wasn't what I expected at all... you know, since I'd expected a giant city full of happy people, clean clothes, good food, and warm beds. I'd been staying here for a while now, so I guess I'd gotten used to by now.

* * *

...

* * *

I sat with my back against the wall, and one arm draped over my knee as I read. My bed in the Weatherly was in the corner, which put me in a state of instant comfort, and all I needed was the light from my Pip-Boy to finish reading _Lying, Congressional Style_. As I flipped through the pages, with every minute, I found that they couldn't hold my interest, and I fell asleep.

When I awoke, I couldn't breathe. There were a pair of armored forearms digging into the bare of my neck, and my movement was restricted. Someone was holding me down, and I was eventually going to be strangled to death.

I tried to spit out anything I could, but it all sounded like a raspy gag reflex, and my attempts were only making it harder for me to breathe. As my chest felt closer and closer to collapsing in on itself, I flailed harder, I kicked harder, and I struggled more, but I was getting nowhere. I lowered one of my hands from my strangler's arm to search, and there it was – _Lying, Congressional Style._

I made sure I had a tight grip on the spine of the book, and managed to throw it across the room. It hit the door, and I assumed it was loud enough for someone to hear.

A few seconds later, the door slowly opened, and the security chief came into my room. I'd never been happier to see him in my life.

"What the hell's going on in here," he yelled, as he drew his assault rifle. "Somebody get in here now!"

The strangler loosened his grip every so often. Harkness took slow, single steps toward me, and never took his eye off the man above me.

"Just let her go, and you'll walk out of here alive. I guarantee it."

The strangler jerked back on my throat even harder, and I shut my eyes tightly. Tears were being squeezed from my eyes until I was full-on crying. It was extremely painful to _move_. The strangler lifted his arm away, allowing a second for me to breathe, only to use his gloved hands to continue to choke me. He was actually going to _kill_ me if Harkness didn't -

The side of my head was now damp. I felt warmth slowly running down my body, as well as major relief. I could breathe again, thank God, but I was still in pain. I fell over onto my now bloodied sheets, and laid there. I didn't want to move, or speak.

And Harkness... just stood there. I stared at him for a few seconds too long, and because of it, I assumed he thought I'd just died. He ran over to me, and shook me by the shoulders.

"Are you alright? Stay with me," he said as he began to search his pockets. He pulled out a stimpak, and practically stabbed me with it.

"Stop," I managed to mutter. He pulled it from my flesh, and I wanted to hit him. "That _hurts, _and a _stimpak_ won't save me from not being able to breathe, dolt," I yelled.

I was gasping for air shortly after. I started to struggle with my breathing again, and I shut my eyes. It hurt so much, but I suppose that's what I deserved for having such a mouth at a time like this...

And that's when my heart nearly leaped out of my chest. He started to perform CPR, and my body was idiotic enough to take something sensual from it. I felt so weakened on the inside, and I couldn't tell if I was dying, panicking, or if it was just flutter.

So, I closed my eyes again. I'd know what it was if I woke up tomorrow...


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed, alerted, or favorited. Although I thank each person individually, I thought I should say it here anyway. Without you guys, this would be nothing._

* * *

POV: Harkness

* * *

I stood outside Dr. Preston's clinic, leaning against the wall, waiting for him to call me in. Every so often, I checked the doors of the Weatherly to make sure there weren't anymore killers on the ship. I hoped Rivet City hadn't become a nest of assassins within the past week, but now that James' daughter was living here, it wouoldn't do too much to keep dreaming. I'd never expected the girl to have enemies, let alone people after her life. Whatever she'd done must've been major, because shortly after we got Michella to the clinic, someone else was attacked.

I hadn't seen it myself, but Danvers told me that Ted Strayers was stumbling around, as usual, and suddenly, a man came running from around the corner. She tried to stop him, but he grabbed a hold of Ted, and threatened to kill him if he couldn't leave. Danvers told him she'd let him go if he told her where he was going, but he just shouted 'bullshit!', and put a bullet through Ted's temple.

The people that were after her were well-equipped, but had idea what to do when it came to resistance. We checked their armor, and no one on the ship had ever seen it before.

"Harkness, you can come in now."

I closed the door to the empty hotel room, and walked down the corridor into the clinic. Dr. Preston was standing beside the gurney that Michella sat on, and both of them seemed to've been waiting for me.

I nodded to Michella, whom returned nothing but a blank stare. Even after I'd saved her life, her attitude toward me was still bitter.

"You're awful ungrateful for someone who almost got killed. I could've arrived a few seconds too late, and you _just_ might've died last night. You don't have the decency to speak?"

Dr. Preston didn't intervene, but his eyebrows were raised to a considerable height.

She pursed her lips skeptically, and her features tensed as she looked to her left. "You only saved my life because you had to. It's not like you had a choice."

I laughed, drawing her attention.

"Believe me. I always have a choice. I'll be sure to shove a sock down your throat the next time I see someone strangling you."

She winced. Satisfying enough.

Dr. Preston perked up, and broke the minute-long silence. "Alright, now that that's over with..." He looked to me. "Harkness, Michella should be fine. If you were worried."

The doctor was right to doubt it.

"And Michella, Harkness wanted to speak to you about the man who attacked you last night."

I walked over, and pulled a stool next to her gurney. "I know you don't like me very much, but I'm only trying to help."

I sat down, and surprisingly enough, she looked me right in the eye. "Okay."

"Do you know who it was that attacked you?"

"If I knew that, I'd be in their headquarters right now, running down their leader with a shotgun."

Couldn't help but cock a brow.

"Right... Well, I guess we're going to have to place you under some sort of 'protective custody'. Not that we have anything set up for that kind of situation, anyway," I trailed off.

Her eyebrows furrowed. "Protective custody? I think not. Wouldn't you feel a little weak if you had to sleep in a room full of guards?"

She left me with a piercing stare, and her dark hair, light-eyed appearance gave me the impression that she was trying to be intimidating. Humorous...

"I _am_ a guard, so no. And it wouldn't be that serious. I'd be the only one to watch over you."

She shook her head. "Sorry. I don't like to look helpless."

"Is it really that bad for someone to try to make sure you're not killed while you're asleep?"

She gave no response. I sat there, staring at her, but she still didn't say a word, and it seemed as though I would be talking to a wall if I said anything more.

So, I got up. "You know what? Fine. Just make sure you don't die somewhere Christie'll have to clean up your insides."

And then I left. If she was going to be stubborn, she'd learn her lesson for it.

After I'd left the clinic to head to the Marketplace, one of the guards ran up to me in the halls.

"Chief, someone left a letter for you. We don't know who it's from, but we were told to give it to you ASAP."

He handed me an envelope, with my name written on the front in cursive.

"By who?" I asked, examining it.

"He didn't say who he was, and to be honest, he didn't look like he was up to anything suspicious."

"Alright. Carry on, then."

I folded the envelope in my pants pocket, and headed over to the Marketplace.

As I sat down at a table and Angela went to place my order, I finally decided to read the letter. On the way to Gary's Galley, I'd gotten a little anxious to read it.

_I don't know who you are, and of course, you don't know who I am. But what you do need to know, is that in this organization, we have jobs to do, and you've become a major obstacle in our paths._

I looked up and around to check if anyone was nearby, because this was far from what I expected to be reading at lunch.

_Because of you, whoever the fuck you are, I have to send out more of my men to get this contract completed. Now that you know there are people out for your little saint, you should be willing to give her to the wasteland. Don't worry, because when we find her, we'll take good care of her._

_I will ask you once to do this, and afterwards, I won't ask again._

_Get her off that boat. Evict her from the city, or tell her that Megaton is in flames, the choice is yours. Just do it somehow, or you'll be next on the hit-list. And you don't want that, because no one in this organization sits around while a contract for 2,000 caps per head is available._

I folded the note back up as Angela came over with my order, and shoved it back into my pocket. I was being dragged into this kid's mess now, and both of our lives were at stake. What exactly had she gotten into, and how?


	3. Chapter 3

_Again, thanks to everyone who added to alerts/favorites/reviewed. You encourage me to try to go above and beyond my original plot, just for your amusement. (And mine. Mostly mine. ;D)_

* * *

POV: FLW

* * *

I stopped the holotape, and played it over again. It was beginning to make sense, but I couldn't believe how hard it'd be to find my next clue.

Now, I'd have to run all throughout this boat - possibly the Wasteland - to find some answers, and today was Sunday. No one would feel like being bothered with me on their off-day.

This all started a few days ago, when I'd introduced myself to Dr. Zimmer in hopes of finding something to do to pass the time. I'd heard people talking about how bothersome he was becoming to Doctor Li, and he was straight-forward enough to offer me the task of tracking down a missing android that previously belonged to him. I got right to it, of course.

Zimmer had given me a holotape that he received from the missing android himself, and said that he was highly insulted by it. When I listened to it, I felt a little more sympathetic for the android than Dr. Zimmer.

_Zimmer. By the time you get this message, I'll already be gone. I'm escaping the Commonwealth. I want to live my own life, on my own terms, as my own man._

_I know what you're thinking, that I'm malfunctioning. I used to think that's what caused the runaways, too. But, I know better, now. Self determination is NOT a malfunction. I'm just not willing to put up with all the bullshit anymore. You humans are going to have a full-fledged rebellion on your hands if you don't start treating us synths as persons._

_I know you'll be marshalling the Retention Bureau to come after me. But I know all the tricks of the trade. You won't be finding me. I assure you._

_By the time you get this, I will be someone else. It's the price I pay for my liberation. My final act of rebellion against a system I no longer believe in._

_Goodbye Zimmer, and good riddance._

So the android had become someone else. I had to think about it for a moment: how does one man (or robot), who's running away from something he's bound to do for the rest of his life, become another person? It should've been obvious, but it took me at least an hour to figure out that he'd had facial reconstruction surgery of some sort.

After I'd crossed that bridge, I went to Dr. Preston, who gave me another one of the android's holotapes, and claimed it was sent to all kinds of doctors in the Wasteland as some type of hoax. When I listened to it myself, I could admit that it didn't sound believable or trustworthy, but since I was looking for an escaped android who'd had facial reconstruction, what choice did I have other than to believe it actually _was_ a legitimate request?

_Hey doc, I'm only sharing this with you because you seem like someone we can trust. Have you heard about the synthetic men they make up north in the Commonwealth? Well, the rumors are true. They're called androids. They're men like us, just made out of different parts. I know one of these androids. He's looking for a trustworthy doctor to perform some facial surgery. Can you do it? Do you know someone who can? Also, do you know anyone who's really a whiz with computers? _

At that point, I was able to be sure that any doctor in the Wasteland would've believed him just as easily as I did.

So now, I needed to ask every doctor I had ever known about this android. This mystery would tire itself out very soon if none of them would be able to answer any of my questions...

I planned on going to Megaton first. Doc Church, other than Dr. Preston, was the first doctor that came to mind as trustworthy, or reliable.

I stopped the holotape, and began to pack.

The pile on the floor, now being shoved into the duffel bag beside my bed, consisted mainly of white, gray, and dark brown tank tops, countless pairs of brown and gray canvas pants, two pairs of boots, and straps with small packs attached to them to hold ammunition and stimpaks.

After I finished packing, I tied my hair into the usual ponytail. I tucked my sub-machine gun into its' holster on my side, and strapped my shotgun to my back. Before I could get out the door, someone started to knock.

I opened the door, and by his expression, I could tell that Harkness didn't seem to have any intention of giving a formal greeting.

"Can I help you?" I asked, trying not to sound impolite.

"First off, where are you going," he asked, pushing past me, and into my room. "Or, where do you think you're going?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Why is it any of your business? I was told it'd be better if I died somewhere out in the Wastelands, not in here."

He crossed his arms and remained silent, telling me to drop it.

"Alright, alright. What do you want, then?" I asked, closing my door.

He kicked his foot, and looked to the floor. "Someone's got it out for you."

I knew that much already.

"Yes, and?"

He looked up. "_And,_ they're dragging me into it."

Though I wanted to ask him why, and the thought_ almost_ worried me, I chose to stick to my usual snide remarks.

"I'm sure you can take care of yourself for the next seventy years. You know, if I'm lucky enough to live that long."

He flashed a brief smile, which I found interesting. "I'd rather not be hunted for the rest of my life if I can help it," he said.

"So, what do you want me to do? Ask them, very politely, not to kill you," I asked, crossing my arms.

"No, I just want you to stay put. You shouldn't leave Rivet City. For both our sakes."

Harkness had lost his mind if he thought he was serious.

"What?"

"What do you mean, _what _? Get used to it here. You can't leave the city."

"Why, so suddenly, do you think you can tell me where I'm able to go, and where I'm not?"

"Because I'm in charge of security, and your life has been threatened more than once while you were here."

"If that's the case, shouldn't I be _leaving_? _Leaving_ would make the entire city safer, don't you think?"

I could tell his patience with me was wearing thin.

"No. Rivet City _is_ the safest place in the Wasteland. You and I are going to have to come up with some agreement. Either you stay around me 24/7, or I stay around you 24/7."

"Sorry, but neither of those options are acceptable. I can handle myself, and you're more than capable of handling yourself."

"Stop being stubborn. My safety is at risk, as well as yours. Aren't you even the slightest bit worried about it?"

I stopped to think about it for a moment. I should've taken Harkness' safety into consideration, but for some reason, it just seemed... unnecessary.

Harkness was the chief of security on a giant ship - home to a little more than a hundred, with an entire security force underneath him – and he was asking me to remain in the confines of the city to secure both of our lives. While I was aware that he hadn't known much about me personally, I could assume he'd heard about countless fights I'd been in, and the multiple occasions I'd stuck up for people who had no way to protect themselves. I could take care of myself in a fight, and so could he.

"No." I answered finally. "I'm not."

He sighed, and as his features tensed, his frustration became very apparent. "Michella, I'm just trying to help. Why won't you let me do my job?"

"Because, _Harkness_, I don't need your protection."

He stopped, and glared at me for a moment. I could tell he was going to say one of two things.

Either he was going to tell me that this was bothering him at night, or, that for a such a smart-ass, I sure was an idiot. I chose to give in before he could choose the second option.

"I'll tag along with you while you do... whatever it is that you _do_... during the day," I said.

"Really? Because I was just about to call you an idiot if you didn't agree to it."

"I could see it coming. You looked like you were going to."

He raised an eyebrow. "Am I really that easy to read?"

I nodded with a smile, astounded that we went from ripping at each others throats to casual joking in only a few minutes.

"We can still come back here so you can sleep. I won't be completely invasive of your private life."

"I'm guessing you think the extent of my private life _is_ sleeping?" I smirked. "To be honest, I just don't think I want to live the rest of my life in fear."

"Well, unless you and I are going to go take down an entire organization of murderers, I think that just might be a reality."

I laughed. "It wouldn't be all that hard."

"For you, I'm sure it wouldn't," he smiled. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves, now."

I always knew Harkness wasn't such a bad guy - I just knew that I had to get off on the right foot with him to see that, first. And after I finally had, he became sort of a friend to me. I found that I could actually enjoy his company, and that spending the rest of my life like this wouldn't be so awful.


	4. Chapter 4

_This chapter was rushed. I didn't even bother to tie up the end, so I apologize._

* * *

POV: Harkness

* * *

I stood out on deck watching over the bridge, while Michella sat on the edge of the platform, and watched over the empty sky.

It was a normal day, just like many of the others we'd seen at one in the afternoon.

"What has your life been like?"

I looked down at her. "What do you mean... what's my life _been like_? What kind of question is that?"

She pulled her hair back and tucked it behind her ears - it seemed to be irritating her, blowing wildly in the wind.

"It's just a question," she shrugged. "I meant, before you became in charge of security."

My lips were parted, but I couldn't think of exactly what to say to her. We'd been getting along fine lately, but it felt awkward to talk to her about my past. Or mostly anything that wasn't related to violence.

"What exactly are you asking me?"

She looked up at me. "I'm asking what your life was like. Family, friends, kids... anything."

Then she looked away, and started to mindlessly bite at her bottom lip. It looked as though it must've been a habit.

"Well, I was married a few years ago."

She immediately released her bottom lip from the clench of her teeth, I noticed.

"And she just... left me. I guess." I didn't know how to explain it any further.

After a brief moment of silence, she pulled one of her knees up from over the edge. "What did you do?"

"So you're already sure that it was my fault, and you haven't even heard the entire story yet?"

She looked up at me again, and smiled.

"Seriously?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"Alright, alright. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. Where is she now?"

I was unsure of where this was going. "She lives with her mother," I answered.

"Yes, just like I thought. It sounds like it was your fault, Harkness."

Before I could counter her snappy remark, I saw a man on the opposite side of the bridge, and immediately ran over to the intercom.

"Just a moment. The bridge will be extended."

I flipped open the control box, and pressed a button. As the traveler stepped onto the bridge, I watched over his every move. He was dressed pretty normal for a wastelander, and appeared to be tired, just like any other traveler who managed to make it all the way down here. ...Besides the fact that he was armed with a double barrel shotgun.

I saw some kind of rapid movement in the corner of my eye, and immediately looked over to Michella, now on her feet, who seemed to be signaling something. She had her palms straightened, and was cutting the air to the right.

"What's the matter?" I whispered to her, drawing my rifle.

"Down," she whispered back.

I looked down, assuming she meant there was something under the bridge.

"Just kill them!" the traveler yelled, pulling the shotgun from his back.

Before I looked back up, I saw that there were two or more men on the shore of the river below, fully armored, with sniper rifles.

"Michella, get back inside," I ordered, grabbing her by the arm and guiding her to my front. She pulled the door open and we hurried inside, barely avoiding the gunfire closing in from behind.

"You picked the wrong day to wear a dress," I said, as I took the pistol from my holster on my side and handed it to her.

"Actually, I thought this would be a good way to impress you. How many women can to kill a man in a pink dress and heels?"

I shot her a brief smile. "Up the stairs."

She clinked up the stairs, and I followed behind. We both dropped on one knee and aimed for the stairway.

Soon enough, the men had entered the ship, and the both of us waited until one was unfortunate enough to step in front of the staircase.

As soon as the first one came into sight, Michella put a bullet in the side of his head. The others rushed over, and we quickly, and easily, picked them off one by one.

I signaled for her to stay back, and crouched to move forward as I looked down the stairway.

"All clear. You can come down."

Michella walked down the stairs, and the first thing she did when she reached the bottom was kick the man with the shotgun in his side.

"Did the ones under the bridge look like they were going to try to come up?" She asked, still staring at the corpse.

"No. They might've ran off."

I watched her a little closer, and she wasn't just staring at the corpse. She knew something that I didn't.

"...any idea who they might've been?"

She simply shook her head, and for the rest of the entire day, she said nothing more.

We returned to the bridge the following day, since Michella had a hunch that no one would come after us that soon.

Suddenly, interrupting our rather silent conversation, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Chief, I think you and the kid might want to see this."

It was officer Danvers.

"What is it?" I asked.

"You'll have to see for yourself," she said, signaling for Michella and I to follow.

She led us into the marketplace, and as we got down the stairs, our eyes were drawn to the crowd.

"_She's making it dangerous to live here!"_

"_What happened to this being the safest place in the Wasteland?"_

I looked to Michella. She knew all this commotion was about her, but I couldn't tell exactly what she thought of it.

"What's going on here?" I asked, pushing my way to the middle of the crowd.

"_Concern, that's what!" _a distant voice shouted.

"Concern about what?"

"_Our safety! Someone will get killed the longer she stays here!"_

I pursed my lips skeptically. "And how is this... supposed killer... going to get in here?"

"_You'll let them in!"_

Danvers had made her way to the center of the crowd, and I noticed a light shining inside the marketplace- Dr. Li was now at the doorway.

"Okay everyone, go back to your business. We've come to a decision, and we'll inform you of it as soon as it's taken care of."

That didn't sound good.

"Danvers, what the hell are you talking about?"

She looked over the crowd as it dispersed, making sure everyone did as they were told. "Bannon, Dr. Li and I need to talk to you and Michella outside."

She began to head towards the exit, and I stood back for a moment. After she was a good distance away, I ran over to Michella.

"So I'm getting evicted?" She asked, surprisingly without a sarcastic tone. She actually sounded concerned...

I bit my lip. "I don't want to sugar coat it, so I'll just say I don't know."

She and I exited the marketplace and went out onto the bridge. We stopped, filling the rest of the circle with Dr. Li, Danvers, and Bannon.

"We've tried to make this decision as easy as possible for the both of you." Danvers said.

"It's nothing personal. We just... think it's better to keep the peace." Dr. Li added.

"I'm being evicted?"

We all looked to Michella, who kept her eyes on Dr. Li.

"...Yes. And I'm really sorry. Like I said, it's nothing personal." Dr. Li answered.

I crossed my arms. "You can't just throw her out. She has every right to live here. If this happened to someone else, we wouldn't just tell them to 'get lost', would we?"

Danvers sighed, rubbing her forehead. "We knew you'd probably have something to say about this, so that's why we'll have to evict you as well if you don't like it."

My eyebrows raised subconsciously. "You'll evict your chief of security? _And_ one of the saviors of the wasteland?"

"_This_ savior of the wasteland is a blessing. But _this _savior of the wasteland also has enemies that could do a lot of damage to everyone and everything around her." Bannon reasoned. "We can't put ourselves at risk any longer."

Before I could say anything, Michella spoke up. "You know what? It's fine. Just let me talk to Dr. Zimmer about something and I'll be on my way."

She pushed past Dr. Li and I, and went inside.

"You're the closest thing to family she has. You actually know her. And you're ok with this?"

Dr. Li said nothing. She just left... and went on her way back to her lab.

"Sorry Harkness. It's her or all of us," Danvers said, walking back inside with Bannon.

"Yeah. Don't take it personally." Bannon added.


End file.
